Chena realized she was breathing fast and shallow, but she couldn’t help it. She closed her mouth and swallowed. “How?”
“By volunteering.”
Those words froze all the blood in Chena’s veins. Something must have showed in her face, because Basante went on quickly. “No one will suspect you. You are just a villager. You will be able to ask questions and find information that I cannot. Everyone knows I have an agenda. No one will suspect that of you.” He spread his hands. “You cannot tell me you haven’t noticed that some of my family do not believe villagers capable of thought.”
Chena peered at him closely, as if trying to see straight through his eyes and into his mind. He means it. God’s garden, he really means it.
Suddenly Chena could not stand to be close to the man. She backed away, putting the breadth of the table between them again.
“We need you, Chena,” he said flatly. “You’re the last of your family that we have contact with. You’re the last one who can help us.”
Chena hung her head. Her whole world spun so she couldn’t think straight. This hothouser was offering to help her find out who killed Mom. He needed her. He meant it. He had shut off the all-seeing Aleph.
“Chena?” he asked gently.
Chena bit her lip and straightened up. “You are going to have to give me more than the chance that I might find out something new about Mom,” she said.
“Such as?” asked Basante warily.
Chena touched her fingertips to the table. Its surface was smooth, solid against her skin. “Would you… could you bring my sister back for me?”
“If you could tell us where to look, gladly.”
She brushed her fingers to and fro absently. The table didn’t seem to be metal, plastic, or wood. It was probably some new thing the hothousers had grown for themselves. “Would you guarantee me that you would leave Nan Elle and others like her alone?”
Basante hesitated. “I couldn’t say, but I believe more latitude could be negotiated, if I turned a few favors.”
“Would you let me leave, once I’d given you what you wanted?”
“Yes.”
Chena slumped back down into the chair and knotted her fingers together. Basante stayed where he was, hands open, ready to give her everything she ever wanted. Even if he was lying, he was giving her a chance to get back into the hothouse, in the voluntary wing where she could have some freedom of movement and access to the databases. She could continue training Aleph from there. She could not only find out who killed Mom, she could get straight to them.
And if he was by some miracle telling the truth, she could get Teal back too. All she had to do was say yes.
She swallowed again. Her throat felt tight and sandy. “Um, could…” She made herself give him a small smile. “Could I get a glass of water or something?”
The smile Basante returned was genuine. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t think to offer you something. I’m pretty dry myself.” Basante paused. “Can I turn Aleph’s awareness back on?”
Chena twisted her fingers a little tighter. Her fingernail with its stash of poison loosened ever so slightly. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
Basante nodded as he stood. “I will be back in a moment.”
Basante left her there. Chena did not get up and try the door. It was sure to be locked. Even if it wasn’t, Aleph was out there. She could not let Aleph know what was going on.
What if it’s real? What if he means it? Even if he doesn’t… She clenched her fingers together, and then remembered how Dionte had done the same thing. Was Dionte one of Basante’s friends? Was that why she had picked out Chena to contact? It made sense. Why not just pick her up? Because it would panic the villagers. If she vanished on her own, who would care? Nan Elle, probably, but no one else.
They’d gone through so much just to get her here, to get her to listen to them. They’d shut down Aleph and they’d told her everything. She could use them. They’d think they were using her, but she could use them. Maybe they’d even give her access to the command that shut Aleph down….
With that thought, Chena made her decision.
The door opened to let Basante back in. He carried a carafe in one hand and two glasses in the other. He poured out a glass of clear liquid and handed it to her. Chena, unable to drop all suspicions, sniffed the liquid and then took a swallow. It was water. She hadn’t actually been expecting anything else. She gulped it down and reached for the carafe to pour another glass.
“Are you sure no one’s watching us?” Chena turned to look behind her.